


To Watch Over You

by Moon_Blitz



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Friendship, Gen, Yuletide 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 16:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Blitz/pseuds/Moon_Blitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick had learned to expect weird things to happen around Christmas, but dealing with a possible ghost was not one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Watch Over You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morgan Briarwood (morgan32)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/gifts).



To Watch Over You

 

“Hey Nick, could you give me a hand?” Nick turned at the question, seeing Wu standing with a nervous-looking woman and a young boy he assumed was her son.

“Sure, no problem. What's up?”

 “This is Mrs. Knox, and her son James. Mrs. Knox, this is Detective Burkhardt. She thinks someone may be stalking them,” Wu explained as he pulled up two chairs for them.

 “A stalker?” Stalking cases were unusual in Portland, but they had been known to occur. Flipping shut the case file he had been reading, Nick got out his notebook and smiled at the pair. “What makes you think someone is following you, ma'am?”

 “Well...I'm not sure if someone is actually following us around, but odd things have been happening,” she began uncertainly, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Strange sounds, small items being moved when we're out of the room, that sort of thing.”

 “And how long have these things been occurring?” As he asked the question, he looked at James, noticing that he was paying close attention to the conversation.

 “Oh, for about six months now. It started shortly after my husband's death...” Mrs. Knox bit her lip and wrapped an arm around her son, giving him a gentle squeeze.

 Nick gave them a sympathetic smile, knowing full well what they were going through. “I'm sorry to hear that. Did you or your husband have any enemies?”

 “No, no, none that I can think of. He was a roofer, and I work in retail. I consider both of us to be very kind people, so I can't think of anyone who would do this to us.”

 “What about you, James? Have you seen any strange people around your house lately?” Nick leaned forward slightly and smiled at the boy. James looked hesitant for a moment, then nodded.

 “Yeah, but only Dad's ghost.”

 “Ghost?” Nick looked at Mrs. Knox, who sighed and shook her head.

 “He's convinced that our house is being haunted by my husband. It's ridiculous, but he won't let it go.”

 “I see.” Nick was reminded of the La Llorona case he had worked a while back, and how he still wasn't sure if she had been a Wesen. “James, has this ghost hurt you or threatened you in any way?”

 “No. He's just around, watching me and Mom. Dad would never hurt us, anyway.”

 He asked them a few more questions, then stood up. “If it would make you feel better, I can see if I can get an officer posted outside your house. Otherwise, I'm afraid there's not a whole lot I can do.” Grabbing a card from his desk, he held it out. “But if either of you need anything, please call me.”

 “Thank you, detective. Merry Christmas.”

 “Merry Christmas. They smiled at each other, and Nick watched them walk away. As he sat back down, he looked over his notes and wondered exactly what kind of ghost “Mr. Knox” was.

 - - -

“Wow, the place looks great,” Nick said as Monroe let him in, looking around in wonder. “Did you and Rosalee come to an agreement?”

 “Yeah, kinda. She put everything back up herself,” Monroe said proudly, looking quite pleased at Nick's reaction. “Can I get you anything? Eggnog? Coffee?”

“Coffee, please. And sorry about dropping by so early. Is Rosalee already gone?” he asked as his friend led him into the kitchen.

 “Don't worry about it, man. I'm used to it by now. And yeah, she said she had a customer coming in early and wanted to be ready for them.” Monroe grinned at him and nodded at a brass wreath hanging on the kitchen wall. “That's an authentic German Christmas wreath from the late 1880's. My great-great-grandmother bought it for my great-great-grandfather as a gift, and it's been in the family ever since. Nice, huh?”

 “It has some great craftsmanship,” Nick agreed, stepping closer to better admire it. Various forest animals lined the outside of the wreath, mingling with the leaves and branches. A faded ribbon had been woven through the gaps between the leaves and animals, and where it was tied at the bottom, a small wooden sign with 'Frohe Weihnachten' painted on it hung from the knot.

 “Here ya go. What kind of Wesen are we dealing with?”

 Accepting the hot mug with a smile of thanks, Nick took a sip before answering. “I'm not sure. I don't even know if it is a Wesen. A mother and son came in yesterday claiming that someone was stalking them, but the kid is convinced his father's ghost is responsible.”

 “A ghost...yeah, that's not exactly Wesen-like. Did you get any details on this ghost?”

 “Not yet. I might go visit them later.”

 Monroe frowned, so Nick let him think while he drank his coffee. He had spent most of the night in the trailer, looking for anything useful among his aunt's books. The only thing he had come up with were Wesen called Strigoi, who, after being near mortally wounded, went into a type of coma until after their burial, whereupon they rose from the grave and returned to their families. They then survived by sucking the blood of their relatives until everyone around them had died, before finally dying for good.

 “Were the mother and son Wesen themselves?”

 “Not that I could see. But I don't know about the father, so the son might be one.” James had been unusually calm at the police station, but Nick wasn't sure if he was old enough to fully understand the situation.

 “Even if he was half-Wesen or a Kehrseite-Genträger, that still doesn't explain the ghost. Maybe it's some kind of imaginary friend? I mean, he did lose his dad.”

 “The mother said things had been moved when they weren't there, though. No imaginary friend could do that.”

 “Unless he has a Treuer Diener as a best friend, no.” At Nick's blank look, Monroe grinned and explained, “Treuer Diener have a woge that makes them invisible to most adults but not to human children. Their woge tricks the kid's brain into seeing whatever the kid wants them to be, which is usually a child around their own age. They're pretty harmless, although they do like to play pranks. My cousin was friends with one, and it drove my aunt nuts for years.”

 “Should I be on the lookout for a Treuer Diener, then? What do they look like when they woge?”

 “I dunno, man. You'll have to look that up on your own. Keep me informed, ok?”

 “Sure thing.” Nick stared down into his coffee, then asked, “Do you have any plans for Christmas?”

 “Rosalee and I are going to have a quiet dinner together, and then maybe go see a movie.” Monroe smiled at the thought, and Nick chuckled at his expression.

 “You guys seem like you're happy.”

 “Oh yeah, we totally are. How are things with you and Juliette? Any special plans?”

 “Pretty good at the moment. She's still worried about me, though. No set plans so far, but a nice dinner sounds like it would be a good idea.” They hadn't talked about Christmas, since they were both pretty busy with work.

 “Hey, maybe we should get together for a small dinner party or something. Tis the season, after all,” Monroe said brightly, and Nick nodded as he looked around at the Christmas decorations. He hadn't been feeling much of the Christmas spirit this year, but perhaps relaxing and enjoying some Christmas-y things might be exactly what he needed.

 “I'll mention it to Juliette,” he replied, smiling at his friend and draining his coffee. “ Listen, I better go. I'll call you if anything comes up.”

 “Awesome, thanks. Have a good day!” As Monroe showed him out, Nick decided that he would visit Mrs. Knox and James later in the day, unless a case came up. And knowing Portland, there was a very good chance of that happening.

 - - -

He had just put on his jacket when his desk phone rang. “Hello?”

  _“Is this Detective Burkhardt?”_

 “It is.” Recognizing the voice, Nick sat back down and asked, “This is Mrs. Knox, right?”

  _“Ah, yes, yes it is. Um, I don't suppose you could come over? It's about James...”_ She sounded worried, but not panicked, so he let out the breath he had been holding. Her son wasn't in the hospital, that much he could assume.

 “Actually, I can. I was planning on going over to ask you a few more questions. I'll be there in-” Glancing at the clock on the station wall, he quickly estimated how bad the traffic would be at this time of day. “-twenty minutes or so. Are you comfortable waiting that long?”

  _“Yes, that's fine. See you soon, detective.”_ She hung up, and Nick leaned back in his chair for a few moments. Cases with a child involved were always tricky, especially since he could identify with James in this particular instance. Telling himself that he couldn't do anything just sitting around, he got up and headed for the parking garage.

 - - - 

“Thank you for coming, Detective Burkhardt. Please come in.” Nick nodded at her in thanks as he stepped into the house, noting that while the front entryway was cluttered, it wasn't in complete chaos. There were even a few Christmas decorations hung up.

 “What did you need me for?” he asked as calmly as he could, seeing that she looked even more stressed out than she had the day before.

 Mrs. Knox bit her lip before replying, clearly unsure of herself. “Normally I wouldn't ask the police about this, but with the stalker, I wanted to be extra careful. It's James, you see. He came home from school with bruises, but he won't tell me what happened! He's always talked to me about problems at school before....”

 “I understand,” Nick said, seeing why she had called him. “Do you want me to talk to him about what happened?” Kids sometimes didn't want to tell their parents something embarrassing or shameful, but would open up to someone like Nick. He needed to ask James a few things anyway, so this was the perfect opportunity to do so.

 “Yes please, that would be wonderful. Oh right, you wanted to ask us some questions? Did you find anything out?”

 “No, not yet. The officers we posted haven't seen anyone suspicious, but they're going to keep an eye out,” he assured her, seeing the relief in her eyes. “And the questions can wait until later. Do you mind if I talk to James alone for a few minutes?”

 “No, not at all. He's in the living room. Would you like some tea?” Nick said he would, and waited until she had gone into the kitchen before going to the living room.

 James was on the couch, staring at the cartoon on TV, but Nick could tell that he wasn't really watching it. The boy noticed him standing there after a few seconds, and sat up a bit straighter. It was then he saw the bruises his mother had mentioned – his left eye was starting to swell up, and there were several bruises starting to form on his jaw. Judging by the state of his clothes, he had also been pushed around quite a bit.

 Smiling at him, Nick sat down on the other end of the couch. “Hi James, I'm Detective Burkhardt. We met yesterday, remember?” James nodded, so he continued. “Your mom called me when you came home looking like that. You got into a fight at school, right?”

 “Yeah...” James looked away then, clearly ashamed.

 “Do you think you could tell me what happened?”

 The boy was silent for a moment, but Nick waited patiently until he started to speak. “Some fifth graders came up to me on my way home and beat me up for saying that Dad was still around.”

 “They don't believe in ghosts, huh?”

 “No...they like to make fun at me at school for it, but they never beat me up before.”

 “Did you manage to run away from them?”

 “Yeah, kinda.”

Nick sat up straighter, realizing that this case may indeed be Wesen-related. “Did something weird happen?”

 “You wouldn't believe me. Mom didn't,” James said dismissively, and Nick smiled at that.

 “Try me out. I've seen plenty of weird things as a cop. Including a real ghost.”

 James looked at him in surprise, then asked cautiously, “Have you ever seen stones attack someone before?”

 “Like shoot up from the ground?”

 “No, they floated in the air for a few seconds before attacking.”

 Nick smiled and shook his head. “Ok, you got me. I haven't seen that before.” Seeing James' hopeful expression dim, he added quickly, “But I still believe you.” Was there a Wesen who had the power to turn invisible aside from the one Monroe told him about? He had no idea, and he had never come across anything like it in his aunt's books, but there was a lot of material there he simply couldn't read.

 “So this ghost you saw...was it a good ghost like my Dad, or a bad ghost?”

 Nick thought back to the case and the motivations behind what she had done. Drowning children would probably be considered a bad thing, but she had her own reasons for doing so. “I don't think it was either good or bad. It had just made a mistake, and was trying to fix things.”

 “I wonder if Dad is trying to do the same thing...”

 Nick was trying to think of some way to comfort him when a shriek came from another part of the house, followed by the beeping of the microwave.

 “Mom!” James bolted for the door and Nick quickly followed him, one hand automatically dropping to rest on his gun holster. Had the stalker decided to reveal himself and hurt James' mother? With a police officer parked out front and him in the house, it was a bold move, even for a Wesen.

 James entered the kitchen before Nick could stop him, but the detective quickly stepped in front of him and took in the situation. Mrs. Knox had recoiled against the kitchen counter in fright, and was staring at man standing in the corner of the room. At first glance, he seemed ordinary, then Nick realized that he was partially transparent and seemed to be glowing faintly around the edges. A longer look made him see the thin chains wrapped around the man's chest and waist, which hung down to end in old-fashioned locks around his ankles.

 “Dad?” James asked, peering around Nick. His mother made a strangled sound as the man focused on them, and Nick quickly saw the resemblance between James and his father in the shape of his face and the colour of his hair. Mr. Knox gave them a sad smile, then stepped backwards into the wall and vanished, the detective just catching the sound of clanking chains over the still-beeping microwave, which fell silent as soon as he was gone.

 “That was...no, no, that was impossible,” Mrs. Knox moaned, and Nick hurried over to make sure that she was alright. There seemed to be no physical injuries, but she seemed to be in shock, so he supported her as he guided her out of the kitchen and back towards the living room. James followed, bringing the tea, and Nick poured them all a cup as he tried to absorb what had just happened. Mr. Knox, if that was who he actually was, hadn't behaved like any Wesen he was familiar with, or even the ghost he had encountered last Halloween. If he was indeed a ghost, it was of a very different type than La Llorona.

 “You saw Dad too, right? I told Mom it wasn't a stalker!” James said as sat down beside his mother.

 “Yeah, that's definitely no stalker,” Nick agreed as he stared at his tea. The ghost didn't seem particularly dangerous, but that could change in an instant, so he would have to find some way of dealing with him. Figuring out what Mr. Knox was came first, though. “James, since your mother is pretty shaken up, I'm going to ask you the questions I was going to ask her. Is that ok?” Mrs. Knox hadn't said a word since the kitchen, but Nick could tell that she needed time to think and deal with what had just occurred.

 “Yeah, go ahead,” James said after a quick glance at his mother. “And don't worry about Mom. I was scared the first time I saw Dad too, but once I realized he was here to help, I wasn't scared any more.”

 Nick nodded as he took out his notebook and pen, jotting a note about that before asking his first question. Now that he was dealing with a ghost, many of the questions seemed pointless, but he wanted to get as much information as possible to avoid any mistakes later.

 - - -

“Hey Monroe, thanks for coming over on such short notice,” Nick said warmly as he let his friend into the trailer.

“Not a problem, Nick. I'm always happy to help. So you pretty much confirmed that you're dealing with a ghost?”

“Pretty much. He disappeared into the wall, and the window was closed and I was blocking the only exit. Can any Wesen other than a Treuer Diener turn invisible?” Nick said, handing Monroe a stack of books.

“Not that I'm aware of...and I figure that since you're a Grimm, you'd be able to see them anyway,” Monroe answered, settling down and opening the first book. “What exactly am I looking for?”

“What I saw was that the ghost was partially transparent, and was glowing faintly around the edges. Plus he was covered in thin chains, and I heard them clank as he left. And when I talked to James after, he confirmed that his father only ever appeared inside the house, but he could still influence things outside of the house like being able to throw stones.”

 “That's a pretty good description you got. How's the kid holding up?”

 “He seemed fine with it, so I think he'll be alright. His mother was still pretty shaken when I left, though,” Nick said quietly, wishing he could do more to help Mrs. Knox. She had insisted that she would be fine after a talk with her son and a good night's sleep, so he had promised to check on them in the morning.

 “Yeah, well, seeing a ghost can do that to you. Also, did anything weird happen? Y'know, aside from the ghost?”

 “The microwave went nuts until he left.”

 “Hm, ok. Interesting,” Monroe muttered, clearly deep in thought. Nick let him think, flipping idly through the pages of the old book he had been reading before his friend arrived. He only looked up again when Monroe said, “I wonder...well, La Llorona turned out to be real, so maybe?”

 “Maybe what? You know what this is?”

 “Kinda. Have you ever heard of _A Christmas Carol_?”

 “The book or the million movie versions?”

“Either. Ok, you know how Scrooge is visited by the ghost of Jacob Marley?” Nick nodded, so Monroe continued. “Well, the Wesen community have legends about similar ghosts, who are unable to rest because of what they did while they were alive, and just sort of hang around, trying to warn those close to them not to do the same thing. People think that Dickens based Marley off of stories he had heard from Wesen.”

 “So you think that Mr. Knox is one of these ghosts?”

 “Yeah, I mean everything fits. The chains, the microwave going off, the going-through-walls thing.”

 Nick nodded slowly, seeing that everything did make sense if he compared it to Dickens' story. “Do you guys have any particular name for these ghosts?”

 “Nope, we just call them ghosts.”

 “Simple enough, I guess.” They shared a smile and Nick asked, “Do these stories say how to defeat or get rid of the ghosts? I don't think Mrs. Knox can take having her husband around, even if he is harmless...”

 “Nothing really specific. I mean, I guess he might move on if you make sure the person or persons he's watching over won't follow in his footsteps. What did he do for a living, anyway?”

 “He worked as a roofer.”

 “Not exactly a crime-ridden line of work, then.” Monroe frowned thoughtfully and thought for a moment. “If you want to go check his background and stuff, I can stay here and see if I can find anything from previous Grimms.”

 “That would be great, Monroe. Thanks.” Nick rose and clapped him on the shoulder as he headed for the door. “Tell Rosalee I'm sorry for keeping you out late, and call me if you find anything.”

 “Will do!”

 - - - 

Nick leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, tired from the long day. Mr. Knox, first name Harold, had no criminal record that he could find, and had occasionally volunteered at his local church preparing meals for the homeless. A quick check with them and his former employer revealed no complaints from anyone, and he had generally seemed like a nice, if somewhat quiet, family man. Monroe had checked in earlier to say that while there were a few references to ghosts in the notes and diaries past Grimms had kept, he had yet to find anything specific.

 Nick picked up his now lukewarm coffee and began to sip it, thinking about the case. There had to be some reason for Harold Knox to stay around, and if Monroe was right, it probably had something to do with his family. With a sigh, he decided to start looking into Mrs. Knox and her son, and reached for his cell phone to tell Juliette he probably wouldn’t be home until late.

 - - - 

“Detective Burkhardt. Good morning. Please, come in.” Nick smiled at Mrs. Knox as he stepped inside, seeing that she looked as tired as he felt.

 “Long night?”

 “Yes, I didn’t get much sleep. I just made a pot of tea, if you’d like a cup...” She seemed distracted, and he could understand why. Having the supernatural world suddenly thrust in your face was hard on anyone.

 “Sure,” he agreed. “Is James home?”

 “Yes, I think he’s up in his room.”

 “Could you call him down? I want to talk to you both.”

 “Of course. Have a seat in the living room, and I’ll go get him and your tea.” She hurried off, and Nick made his way to the couch to wait. He had found something that might suggest why Harold was sticking around, now all he had to do was confirm it. Hoping he was doing the right thing, he cleared his throat and spoke.

 “Harold Knox, are you here? I know that you’re trying to protect your wife and son, but you’re doing more harm than good at the moment. Let me help you help them. I know we never met, but please trust me on this. I’m here to help all of you.”

 Nothing happened for a moment, but then the air opposite Nick shimmered and Harold appeared, still clad in his chains and shimmering faintly in the morning light. Nick’s cell phone went off then, but he set it to silent without taking his eyes off the ghost. He had skimmed _A Christmas Carol_ sometime early that morning, so he had a rough idea of what to expect – assuming Dickens’ story was mostly correct.

 “Hello Mr. Knox,” he began, trying to focus on the ghost’s face despite the unblinking stare he was getting in return. “I’m Detective Burkhardt.”

 “I know who you are,” Harold replied, his voice echoing slightly. “I’m surprised you can see me, Detective. No one besides James could before.”

 “I’m good at seeing what other people can’t.”

 “Yes, I can see that.”

 “Dad! You’re back!” Both of them turned as James raced into the room, a huge grin on his face. He then noticed Nick and nodded politely, clearly trying to contain his excitement. “Hi Detective Burkhardt.”

 “Hey James.”

 His mother stood frozen in the doorway, staring at her deceased husband. Finally she stammered, “Here’s the, uh, tea, Detective...” and edged into the living room. Nick rose and took the tea tray from her, and she moved to stand at the far end of the couch. “W-What did you w-want to talk a-about?”

 “I know this is going to sound weird, but I think your husband is still here because he wants to protect you from something.”

 “You mean there actually is a stalker?!” James said, looking both excited and scared at the idea.

 “No, there isn’t a stalker. I’m sorry for scaring you like that, but I just wanted to let you know that I was still here,” Harold said slowly, focusing on his wife and son. “Mary, I know you don’t believe in ghosts, otherwise I would have shown myself sooner. And Detective Burkhardt is right, I stayed to protect you.”

 “Protect us from what, though? No one has ever tried to hurt us, and James is doing fine in school.”

 “Is he?” Harold looked at his son then, and Nick could tell they had arrived at the same conclusion.

 “You haven’t been entirely truthful to your mom, right James?” Nick asked gently, and the boy shook his head and stared at his hands. “The fight yesterday wasn’t the first one you got into, was it?”

 “No...” James bit his lip and then said in a rush, “I just wanted to be all tough like Dad was when he was in school! I didn’t hurt anyone, I swear, I just pushed them around a little...”

 “James!” his mother gasped, but Harold raised a hand, chains clanking.

 “James, when I was your age, I was half a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier then you. I got into fights to protect myself and my friends from the bullies at school who wanted our lunch money, not because I had anything to prove. See these chains? I wear them because sometimes when I was older, I did fight just for the fun of it, and people got hurt.”

 Nick nodded, recognizing that element from the story. “You can’t move on because you can’t shed your past, plus you’re trying to stop James from doing the same thing you did. That’s why you drove off the kids James was fighting with yesterday.”

 “Exactly,” Harold confirmed with a nod, then walked through the coffee table to kneel down in front of his son. “I know it’s tough without me around, but you need to stop getting into fights. You’re strong enough as it is, in here.” He pointed to James’ chest then, and smiled.

 “He’s right,” Mrs. Knox said shakily. “Your father’s right. The other kids might be bigger than you, but you have a bigger heart than they do. And that matters more than anything else.” She moved to join her husband and ran a hand through James’ hair. “You may look all tough with that black eye of yours, but it hurts, doesn’t it?”

 “Yeah, it does,” James said with a sniffle. “I’m sorry, I really am. I just wanted to prove how strong I was. I won’t get into any more fights now, I promise.”

 “Good. I love you so much, James. Make me proud, ok?” Harold looked both happy and sad as he gazed at his son, and Nick wondered if ghosts were able to cry.

 “You’re leaving? But...but Mom can see you now...”

 “I need to go. Other people need my help too,” Harold said gently, chains rattling as he rose. “Mary, sweetheart, take care. Look after him for me, please?”

 “I...I will. Oh Harold, you know I will!” she replied, wrapping an arm around her son as she gazed up at him. “Goodbye, Harold. Merry Christmas.”

 “Bye Dad. M-Merry Christmas.”

 “Detective? I think it’s time to go now,” Harold said firmly, and Nick let out the breath he had been holding. He hadn’t known what to expect, not really, but he guessed that this was as much of a happy ending that the Knox family was going to get.

 “Yeah. Mrs. Knox, James. If you two ever need anything, please give me a call. Especially if you think you need to get into a fight to solve a problem.”

 James nodded, too upset to speak, but his mother smiled tearfully and nodded. “Of course, Detective. Thank you so much for everything. Merry Christmas.”

 “You’re welcome, and Merry Christmas.” Nick left mother and son to grieve, and followed Harold out onto the front step of the house. “What now?” he asked the ghost softly.

 “I’m going to go help others, exactly as I told them,” Harold replied, tugging at his chains. “These may look light, but I still feel the weight of them. I can’t rest until the locks break and every one of them falls off.”

 “Good luck,” Nick said, giving him his best encouraging smile. “Hopefully I won’t be seeing you again.”

 Harold gave him a long look and said, “No, Detective, you won’t be seeing me around anymore. But you have chains of your own to bear. They may be thin and weak now, but if you’re not careful, they’ll be strong and heavy by the time you’re like me.”

 Nick felt a chill go up his spine at that, but managed to say, “Thanks for the warning. I’ll try to be careful.” Harold Knox smiled, nodded, and vanished, leaving the detective alone.

 - - -

“Well, at least he warned you?” Monroe said as he handed Nick a beer.

 “I guess I should be thankful, but if I already have chains, what were past Grimms like?”

 “Clearly they looked like Jacob Marley except with even more chains.”

 “I’d say,” Nick twisted the top off and took a sip, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “I hope I don’t get a visit from my own Jacob Marley. I don’t want to imagine what might happen if my aunt came back.”

 “I think you’re safe from her, buddy. Besides, am I not your own real life Jacob Marley? Or have I been lying to myself since we met?”

 Nick grinned at that and raised his beer. “That is something I can definitely toast to. To you, for being my conscience all this time.”

 “Aw, thanks man. Cheers!” They clinked their bottled together, and as Nick took a drink, he finally felt like he might enjoy Christmas this year.


End file.
